APRIL’S POV
:
“It sucks that you didn’t win, honestly. My roommates and I were rooting for you.”
“That’ll be four twenty–five.”
“And it must suck that you had to go back to your old life after living in such a luxurious mansion, right?”
“Cash or card?”
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“And like, you literally had both Lucas and Nathan interested in you, and then poof! Back to a sucky life of serving coffee.”
“Well, she’s not really serving coffee, is she? Seeing as you’ve refused to take your damn latte, using the word ‘suck‘ like it’s about to go out of style.”
The nosy busybody keeping me from going on my break spins around, her ponytail whipping in the air as she turns to face the owner of the cutting voice who just spoke my mind.
As she moves, the newcomer comes into view, and my breath hitches at the same time that she gasps.
“Oh my God, You’re-”
Lara Ellington.
Lara pushes her Raybans up on her head and eyes the customer with a cutting look. “Yes, I am. And let me tell you, it sucks to have to stand behind you in line, listening to you yammer away.”
The customer sucks in a breath and turns back to me. She tosses down a wad of cash–definitely more than the price of her latte- snatches the cup, and storms out of the coffee shop, her face the same shade of maroon as the UChicago logo.
Lara rolls her eyes, stepping forward. I stare at her, wide–eyed and stunned. Seeing her outside the context of the competition is jarring, especially after I’d convinced myself I’d never cross paths with anyone from the Ashford Estate again.
She looks as stunning as ever in a pale green halter romper that shows off her long legs. When her hand reaches up to adjust her glasses, the diamond on her finger glints, and my mouth goes dry.
She’s engaged to Lucas Ashford, She’s going to marry a monster.
She’s wearing that familiar indifferent mask that all the heirs of wealthy families seem to have mastered.
It reminds me of the Lara Ellington I saw the first day we presented ourselves. The Lara that intimidated me.
Not my new friend who wears messy buns and laughs at gore.
“Hi,” she says. Flat, hollow.
I swallow hard, trying to wet my mouth. “Ii.”
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Chapter 164
Her lips press tightly together. “Can we talk?”
My neck feels stiff as my head bobs up and down.
:
“Outside,” she says, gesturing to the floor–to–ceiling windows. I spot a sleek Rolls–Royce Idling near the curb,
She turns around without another word and walks to the door, turning every head in the room as she goes.
Mindy is gawking at the other side of the counter, and I snap my fingers to signal her. “I’m going on break,” I announce,
“Do you think she’d take a selfie with me?” she asks, her voice thick with awe.
1 roll my eyes and don’t bother answering.
Outside, a driver opens the backseat for me, and I slide in next to Lara.
Money has a scent–it’s called The Interior of Lara Ellington’s Rolls–Royce.
As soon as the door closes behind me, she hands me a long garment box.
“Courtesy of Lily Ellington,” Lara says,
Skeptically, I open the box, and my breath stills. It’s the dress–the one Lily showed me in her studio.
a
(P)
“And this was the last dress I wore down the runway in Milan In two thousand and three. I was six months pregnant with Lara, but you should have seen me, I rocked the show!”
I feel like someone gift–wrapped the Mona Lisa and gave it to me for Christmas.
“She wants you at her Vogue showcase tonight,” Lara says flatly, like she’s reading the weather report–but the words hit me like a stun
gun.
The ‘Vogue showcase‘ is the Vogue Emerging Designer Night, an elegant, invite–only spectacle filled with editors, stylists, celebrities, and industry insiders.
It’s no place for someone like me–a definite outsider.
Yet, Lily Ellington has invited me.
“–”
“You can’t refuse,” Lara cuts me off, “You’ll upset her If you do, and I think you’ve upset enough Ellingtons, don’t you think?”
My sharp intake of breath is audible in the quiet car.
She closes her eyes, and her face furrows in a way that suggests that she didn’t mean the outburst. Didn’t mean to let her mask slip and reveal her true feelings.
“Lara-”
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Chapter 164
“You’ll come, right?” She’s not looking at me. She hasn’t properly looked at me once.
“Okay.”
“Perfect. A car will be by to pick you up at seven.”
“Lara, please, let me-”
“I have a dress fitting now,” she says, a determined edge to her voice.
“Is it…for your wedding dress?”
She looks at me then, and I suddenly prefer it when she wasn’t. Gone is the warmth of my friend, the glint in her eyes that makes you feel like you two are sharing a secret no one else is privy to.
“Why?” she asks softly. “Does it suck for you that I’m marrying Lucas?”
My fingers clench around the garment box. “Lara, I swear I can explain.”
“I’ll see you tonight, April.” She leans her head against the glass and slides on her glasses.
Conversation over.
I hesitate, but then the door opens by some telepathic conversation with the driver.
“Thank Lily for the dress,” I say softly. “And I’ll see you tonight.”
I step out, and the door shuts behind me.
I clutch the garment box to my chest as the car pulls away, and the constant ache in my chest since my breakdown two days ago
intensifies.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
